


Illusions

by Tinalouise88



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 06:49:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11480955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinalouise88/pseuds/Tinalouise88
Summary: Sarah never put together the pieces; only seeing the illusion he wanted her to see. Even when she saw behind the mask it was too late. Evil Jareth. Warnings inside.





	Illusions

**Author's Note:**

> I want to give a huge shout-out to Kbates who took her time and looked over, edited and gave me feedback when I was unsure of the story. You are amazing and awesome!
> 
> This story is dark and has warnings.
> 
> This story contains: Kidnapping, Non graphic/slightly graphhic -non consensual acts
> 
> ,Biting, Involuntary tattoo's, Swearing, A complete psychotic goblin king.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy my venture into the dark side!
> 
> Song is: Torn By Natalie Imbruglia

Illusions

* * *

 

**I thought; I saw a man brought to life.**

**He was warm; he came around, and he was dignified.**

**He showed me what it was to cry.**

 

_Sarah didn't know how long she had been there, neither did she know how many tears she had shed since being taken…_

She never imagined running to the Goblin King in the middle of her college; she didn't even _know_ it was him. No, she'd fallen for a handsome, suit wearing, guest lecturer who seemed to have a thing for ponytails. She had been 20-years-old, still seeing the world through fresh eyes, unwilling to believe that evil was lurking in the corners of her small university.

It seemed innocent back then, he'd bumped into her at the local coffee shop, spilling her coffee in the process and offering her a new one. Looking back, it seemed clichéd—so much like one of those cheesy soaps Irene liked to watch when Toby napped or went to school.

They had talked for hours about literature and her dreams of wanting to see Ireland. He was from London, but had seen Ireland many times through his life. He'd offered to show her around if she went one day.

It started quietly, she'd taken him around the city first, and then she'd called him to a black-and-white movie when her friend had bailed last minute. They'd kissed for the first time that night, Sarah blushing as the blood rushed through her body making her light headed.

Her father was none too pleased finding out that Sarah was dating a man much older than herself. She never did tell them his age though, merely laughed and brushed it off when her father asked. Irene was ten years younger than her father. And it wasn't like she was going to marry him—it was just dating.

 

**Well, you couldn't be that man I adored**

**You don't seem to know.**

**Seem to care what your heart is for**

**But I don't know him anymore.**

 

_She never caught the similarities…_

Sarah had forgotten about her time in the Labyrinth, thinking it was a childhood fantasy that she had outgrown. Sometimes she shivered when she caught him starring at her with that gleam in his eyes—that she had believed depicted his attraction towards her.

_If she had only known..._

Her father had bought her a summer trip to Ireland for her 21st birthday. How she had squealed and hugged him, kissing his aging cheek over and over at the restaurant in which they'd had dinner. Much to Robert's dismay, Sarah had invited her suitor.

_Toby didn't like him…_

She had put it off to his attachment towards her. Sarah was his and he was protective of his older sister. Toby spent his night glaring at the man over his plate of spaghetti; who in turn ignored the boy. She'd ignored Irene when she had mentioned that Toby had no problems with her other boyfriends.

Her suitor brought her red and white roses, which she breathed in deeply as she told him they were lovely. Next she opened a small box with an oddly shaped pendant with a Celtic symbol on it. She had worn it proudly around her neck, after he put it on her. It was simple and elegant, Irene awed over it when she spotted it just below her collar bone. A perfect birthday gift after only a few months of dating in her books.

Even Robert hadn't found a fault with the man, despite his age. He was attentive and treated his daughter with respect. They shared no actual classes so it wasn't against the rules, but they were warned to keep the relationship off campus when he went to ask about the rules and regulations of his contract and his personal life.

Still, they made do, and she was head over heels in love with him. Even if he had a thing for peaches, the one fruit that made her sick to even think about for a reason unknown to her since she was fifteen.

 

**There's nothing where he used to lie.**

**The conversation has run dry.**

**That's what's going on.**

**Nothing's fine, I'm torn.**

 

She was alone in a damp dungeon…or was it something else? She felt like she had been there before, but she just couldn't place it as she looked up to see the through the grates in the night sky.

"Oubliette," she murmured holding her head. Flashes came across her mind.

"Well, it seems that our Sarah has awakened." His voice rang out causing her to jump up and back up against the wall as she felt herself bump into him. She screamed as his arms held her still, his breath on his face.

She didn't know why she said it. "You have no power over me!" she cried as she struggled.

"Oh, but I do, dear Sarah." She could hear him smirk.

He turned her to face him, seeing the familiar face. Her lover's face, but the hair was slightly longer, fluffier as it stood up in places. She swallowed hard as she saw the menacing look in his eyes as he looked her over.

"Oh yes, I shall enjoy you very much." His eyes gleamed as he licked his lips.

She fought him; she fought hard clawing and kicking until he tied her down. He stuck his tongue in her mouth and she bit down hard.

"That wasn't nice Sarah," he growled, as he tore off her blouse and bra. "Let's see how you like being bitten," he sneered lowering his head. His teeth were sharper than hers, she found out as she felt them pierce the tender skin of her areola.

He left her a crumpled mess on the floor when he finished with her.

She didn't understand—he looked so much like him, but yet he wasn't _him_ , or was it, he? Trying to figure it out was a mind fuck that gave her a migraine. So many possibilities and what ifs came into her mind, she didn't know what to believe anymore.

 

_She thought back to her home and family, her life before…_

Living at home in university didn't give her options for bringing boys home, and her suitor had lived in temporary campus housing. It didn't leave many options for overnight visits. She had had boyfriends, she had some experience with oral, heavy petting, and she knew what it was like to have an orgasm brought on by someone else. But she never felt comfortable or had the right moment to go all the way with those boys she had dated. Granted Irene made sure Sarah was prepared—condoms were given when she began to date. Irene had even offered to take Sarah to the doctor for oral contraception or even a diaphragm if she was interested. She was way too young to be a grandmother she would constantly tell Sarah.

Sarah had often wondered about her own mother, self-absorbed as she was, Linda had always tried her best when it came to Sarah. She took Sarah to buy her prom dress in the high end streets of New York and had a hair dresser do her hair up in a wildly big hairdo. Linda had been a great part time parent, just a lousy full-time parent when her career finally took off.

Sarah brought him to New York; she had tickets for her mother's show, and they all had dinner afterwards. Being a 'modern parent' as she called it, she left them at their own discretion for bedroom arrangements. Sarah had a large bed in her mother's apartment; however, when it came towards the end of the night, knowing her mother was down the hall had ruined the moment, and they had settled for sleep that night.

They had planned on getting down and dirty when they arrived in Ireland, and Irene had made sure that Sarah left prepared with a stern lecture on 'no glove-no love' motto. _Don't make me a grandmother and God's sake, don't make your six-year-old brother an uncle._

In the end, it didn't matter as she never reached her destination.

 

**I'm all out of faith.**

**This is how I feel.**

**I'm cold, and I am shamed.**

**Lying naked on the floor**

**Illusion never changed.**

**Into something real**

**I'm wide awake, and I can see the perfect sky is torn.**

**You're a little late; I'm already torn.**

 

_How he managed it, she still didn't know…_

She laid awake on the cold ground, shivering in the threadbare blanket. How many days? How many weeks had she has been here now? How many times had he come and used her body for his sick pleasure?

How many times had she bled from his unwanted attentions and vomited in disgust as he tossed her aside with a cruel laugh? He had no conscience—he loved seeing her broken and battered at his feet.

It seemed like an eternity had passed, the first time _he_ appeared. Seeing the familiar mismatched eyes and crooked smile she cried in relief, as she clutched at him. She didn't even understand how he found her, how he got to her. She didn't care as she saw the familiar kind looking face, even if he was wearing similar clothing as his evil counterpart.

"Help me, please help me," she repeated before the fear spread over her as she shrank back from him. "You can't be here. He'll kill you, go! Just leave me. I'm nothing now, find someone else to be with, just go!"

"You're the one I want," he caressed the side of her dirty face. He gave her his jacket. "Run, Sarah, run; I'll hold him off-" he told her, pushing her through the door that had suddenly appeared.

Sarah ran from the dark chamber she had been living in. She ran through the tunnels trying to find some way out. She ran in circles for what seemed like hours before she made it outside. She tripped on what appeared to be a root of a tree, but as she looked around, she noticed there were none.

And then she heard a sickening laugh. Her stomach filled with horror as she pulled herself up to her feet and tried to run away. But she froze, the vines caught her ankles, arms and she fell upon the ground in a crumpled heap.

"Naughty, naughty," he tutted with a grin. "Whatever shall I do with you?" The claws that were his fingernails traced down her face, leaving red scratches on her cheek on her skin before walking behind her. She screamed as he shredded open _his_ jacket, cutting into her skin in the process. She felt him lick the wounds, moaning at the taste of her blood as his other hand cupped her roughly from behind.

It was the first time she made the connection—she saw same boots. She had no saviour here, it was only _him_.

 

**So I guess the fortune teller's right.**

**Should have seen just what was there.**

**And not some holy light**

**It crawled beneath my veins.**

**And now I don't care; I had no luck.**

**I don't miss it all that much.**

**There's just so many things.**

**That I can touch, I'm torn.**

 

Sarah remembered once, a while ago, being dragged to a psychic who called herself a medium, by her friend. She'd gone along just for fun, but the _look_ that the woman had given her… How the woman's eyes had glazed over truly frightened her that day. She'd believed that the so-called psychic had to be on drugs as she'd sprouted off nonsense.

" _Clouded you are in the mists; you have been touched."_

_"I see another world; a strange world. You went into it as a child but came back wiser. "_

_"You must look beyond what is in front of you to see the truth. The lies surround you, but you do not see them."_

_"He is coming for you, beware my friend. Shield yourself and do not let him take you."_

Sarah laughed out loud as she curled up in a ball on the ground. The psychic had been real after all. She had foreseen the Goblin King and saw in the past which Sarah herself had forgotten.

She began to work things out as the time passed. How _he_ always came to save her only to disappear as she ran. She constantly ran into him before she could make it outside, but as time went on the faster he changed the quicker she was caught. Still, she ran; she _had_ to run as it was the only way out of this nightmare.

She stopped wondering how long she had been here for or what her parents must think. She never got pregnant, then again, she never had her period. She ate the food that he sent, knowing if she ever wanted to leave, she needed to keep up her strength.

 

**I'm all out of faith.**

**This is how I feel.**

**I'm cold, and I am shamed.**

**Lying naked on the floor**

**Illusion never changed.**

**Into something real**

**I'm wide awake, and I can see.**

**The perfect sky is torn.**

**You're a little late; I'm already torn, torn.**

**There's nothing where he used to lie.**

**My inspiration has run dry.**

**That's what's going on.**

**Nothing's right, I'm torn.**

 

The weather turned cold; she shivered curled up in a ball against the stone wall, there was no moon that night as she sat in the darkness with a single candle that only burned a few hours each night. A gift he called it, after one particularly rough night.

He appeared holding a thick blanket, her hand went to snatch it craving the warmth of the fur. He pulled it from her reach—her teeth chattered.

"Luxuries don't come for free, Precious." His drawl taunted her, her eyes wide as she took in his words.

"What do you want?" she asked, feeling sick to her stomach as she said the words.

"What would you like, Your Majesty," he corrected.

"What would you like, Your Majesty?" She spat out the words, not hiding her disgust.

New moons were the worst, no light above—he was always brutal during those nights. Torturing her in every way possible, making it impossible for her to forget. Ropes, whips, clamps, chains…he had a variety at the snap of his fingers. How many times had she passed out from the pain with his sneering face as her last memory?

Her final resolve broke as she lay on the damp ground, she gave up her tears long ago. Tears did nothing to help the situation, they only made her feel worse. She barely lifted her head when the other him, her suitor made an appearance for the first time in a long while.

She refused to run; she just lay there her head on his lap, his fingers working through her hair. She didn't even care that she was dirty and naked. There was no escaping him, there was no way home. The man she loved was a split personality of a psychotic Goblin King, who refused to take her rejection of him.

Her rejection, her destruction of his city—he offered everything to her to be his Queen. But she had only been fifteen! She hadn't understood what he was talking about.

" _Fear me, love me, do as I say—and I will be your slave…"_

Pretty words to try and ensnare her into his sick twisted games. She gave up on everything that she wanted in her life. She was his; his personal toy to play with. His to tear apart, piece by piece, until she was defenceless. She was stuck in a nightmare that became her reality.

"You have to trust me, Sarah, I will get us back," _he_ whispered to her, but she had given up hope long ago. Empty promises that gave once gave her hope but only brought heartbreak and pain.

She woke up alone, tied to a table—nothing new, she had woken up to him doing a variety of things to her many times before. She was on her stomach and she let out a scream as she felt something pierce her skin on her lower back. A small tap and a prick of a needle.

He was marking her! He held her down as she struggled against the restraints.

"You mess it up, there will be another," he growled, warning her. "Stop struggling," he commanded as he moved over to the side of the narrow table. She watched him pull his pants down. Tears fell from her eyes as he grabbed her jaw, forcing her to open up as he shoved his already hardening cock into her mouth, causing her to choke and gag as he hit the back of her throat.

She felt herself go into her mind, letting black fall around her, blocking out the reality. She was dreaming, dreaming of that future, she had once wished for. That picket fence and Victorian house; two children running around in the yard as she watched from the kitchen window while she graded papers. Waiting for _him_ to come home, kiss the top of her head and pour himself a cup of coffee while he started dinner for her.

But that's gone now…that dream was out of her grasp, as she was stored away in a small oubliette, entirely in his clutches.

 

**I'm all out of faith.**

**This is how I feel.**

**I'm cold, and I am shamed.**

**Lying naked on this floor**

**Illusion never changed.**

**Into something real**

**I'm wide awake, and I can see.**

**The perfect sky is torn.**

**I'm all out of faith.**

**This is how I feel.**

**I'm cold, and I'm ashamed.**

**Bound and broken on the floor**

**You're a little late, I'm already torn, torn.**

 

Sarah woke up with a jump, her hands patting down her body as her chest heaved from the shock. Strange memories faded from her mind.

"Sarah?" A man's voice rumbled beside her. "Calm down, it was only a dream."

"Only a dream?" Sarah repeated his words. "It was just a dream," she reassured herself. "It felt so real."

"You've been saying that about your dreams lately." He pulled her close to himself. "Can you remember anything?"

Sarah shook her head. "No, just the feeling being helpless and numb." She twisted her wedding band around her finger—it matched the pendant he had once given her, the same sickle shape with diamonds. A family heirloom he told her when he asked her to marry him. "Like everything that I ever loved or took a value in was torn from me."

"Then maybe it is best that you can't remember them," he spoke softly to her and stroked her hair gently. But on his face was a smirk that she couldn't see.

"Hmm, perhaps you are right Jareth," Sarah murmured her eyes shutting. "I should check on the children," she tried to sit up once more.

"The children are fine, go back to sleep Sarah," he told her gently as he pulled her into his arms once more. Singing little rhymes in her ear to make her sleep—his hand glowed as he stroked her tresses.

"Sleep, Precious," he whispered as she rolled over onto her stomach, the blanket falling away—the ink on her lower back glowed before fading away to nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading!
> 
> Let me know what you thought of it. The good; the bad!
> 
> Anything that popped into your mind while reading !
> 
> Tina


End file.
